


A Hit, a very Palpable Hit.

by ThatThembo



Series: Practice Makes Better [2]
Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Both Vexx and the traveler are emotionally constipated, But also vague enough that it could be relatable, Fencing, Flashbacks, Hamlet References!, Headaches & Migraines, Homoerotic Fencing, Other, This is extremely self serving, arguably - Freeform, i think, little bit of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatThembo/pseuds/ThatThembo
Summary: Given that the Traveler now lives with a band of mercenaries, they figure they should learn how to fight, but their plan goes awry when they get a visit from Vexx.
Relationships: Vexx Serif/Original Character(s), Vexx Serif/Original Trans Character, Vexx Serif/Traveler
Series: Practice Makes Better [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020517
Kudos: 11





	A Hit, a very Palpable Hit.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final part in the "Practice Makes Better" collection, for now anyway. 
> 
> Disclaimer: if you've read the first part of this collection with Cal and/or Damon, then the first few paragraphs will look the same, but this is a very different fic. Hope you enjoy!

Wearing a shirt I borrowed from Bash, I make my way into the 'training area.' The Andromeda 6 doesn't actually have a specific area for training, but there is an area which is certainly large enough. It has a kick bag pushed to the side, several sticks that could count as practice weapons, and a handful of weights in the opposite corner. The shirt Bash lent me is a tad bigger than what I should probably actually wear if I wanted to show off any figure, but given that I really don't, I'd say we're all good. 

I head over to the kick bag. It's a decent thing, red in color and when completely lowered, the top is level with my chin. After taking a moment to appraise the bag, I shift it up a notch, the top now level with my eyes. I take another moment's appraisal, then strike. A simple jab followed by a packed cross. The kick bag wobbles in a small oscillation before stopping. 

Taking half a step back and keeping my hands up, I throw a round kick, it's not particularly strong, but still exhilarating. I get another brief oscillation and then the bag stills. Then I move to switch kicks, practically useless in a fight, but they get my heart rate up in no time. Feeling my body move back with each collision, I slow to a stop, careful to not hit the thick band of plastic supporting the bag. 

Taking in a breath before exhaling with a huff, I turn away from the bag momentarily as I decide what to next. _Fuck it, elbows_. Stepping closer to the bag I give a few elbow strikes before immediately giving that up. Elbow strikes may be fun, but the bag proves a poor opponent for that practice. 

I both do and don't notice Vexx observing me from the entryway. A contradictory statement, but I see that he's there and yet I don't recognize that I am not alone.

What I do recognize is a flare of emotions. An amalgamation of fear, longing, anger, mourning, hate, sadness, and a little bit of hope. The feeling boils my blood and burns my chest, and my head hurts, but my mind feels empty

I move and grab one of the sticks which could stand in for an escrima stick or a club, and hit the heavy bag like I'm trying to break it. I grab the stick's twin and keep hitting the bag. The catharsis is instantaneous and overwhelming.

The attacks on the poor heavy bag slowly become less aggressive and my strikes become more precise as the pain and the anger return to that dull ache which I've begun to learn how to ignore. My mind begins to catch up with my feelings, but I still can't bring myself to look at him, knowing that I'll only see an empty husk of the person I knew.

I stop striking the bag and bring the escrima back. The right escrima lays back on my right shoulder, and the left one crosses over my body and rests against ribs beneath my right arm. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, hold my breath for a moment, and then exhale silently through my mouth.

 _Quarter-strike, side, quarter_. The thought runs through my head as a silent mantra. _Quarter-strike, side, quarter_. I swing the escrima around the back of my head before the last quarter-strike. _Quarter-strike, side, quarter_. Back and forth, each _thwump_ of the escrima grounding me into my body.

"Quarter-strike, side, quarter," Vexx's voice is closer than I would have expected it, and as I stop my strikes, I can feel that he is directly behind me.

And I can't stop the damned shiver that runs along my spine

"You've been practicing," his voice is distant, calculated, and empty and my chest feels tight.

"I've-- yes. I have been," I lower the sticks to the ground and turn to face him. He looks me up and down in the same distant way he spoke to me and when my muscles coil in response, I don't know if it is a fight or a flight response.

And then I'm in the castle, I've been panting, and my chest heaved in an attempt at laughter. Vexx had just said something that was both hilarious and a call out. I rolled my eyes, and, after pulling off my fencing mask, I pointed my foil at him. "You, Ser, are trouble."

"And you, Highness, love it," he said with a self-satisfied look that dared me to correct him.

With yet another eye roll, I pushed my mask back down and brought my rapier to my center, "I do, now, en garde, you scoundrel," and the fencing match began. Vexx always chose to never wear a mask, and whenever I asked, he always shrugged and said that in a real fight he would never have time to put it on.

The duel was fun, fast, and full of laughter. The duel ended quicker than I ever admitted it had when the stubbed tip of Vexx's rapier poked into my gut.

"A hit. What say you, Highness?" Vexx said with a smirk. We both knew that he could have ended the match in a matter of seconds, but he indulged me in my wants. He always indulged me when I wanted to learn how to fight, spar, and duel.

"A touch, a touch, I do confess," I said, my voice was light with laughter.

Dropping my foil and raising a hand in surrender, I pretended that I wasn't a royal. We had put away our stubbed weapons and did simple drills together and I imagined that our training center wasn't in a gilded cage.

"You got this, Jasper," Vexx said my name and he was the only one who knew it, and by the gods, I wished I could Jasper and not the princ--

"Jasper?" I blink and Vexx is in front of me again. I'm in the borrowed shirt and not in the dress clothes that never fit my body.

Vexx says my name and for a second I think that it's him. For a second, I think that it's my friend and my-- I think it's him. I look into his eyes and it's there that I see a grain of concern but it's so small that I can't tell if it's real.

I step back and find myself leaning against the heavy bag and closing my eyes as my head swells with pain at the unwanted but now prized memory. "Why are you here, Vexx?" I ask this because I don't know what else there is to say.

"I don't know."

I can't help but scoff at the answer. I look up and meet his eyes because, suddenly, not looking at him seems harder. "Are you still getting headaches?" _Because my head is throbbing, and by god, I still can't sleep._

He scoffs a quiet laugh at my question and I swear that I see a glimpse of the man I once knew, "When have I ever not?" I want to smile with sympathy but the image of him groaning in pain after we captured him on Cursa plays in my mind and my throat tightens. "Don't look at me like that."

I'm about to ask what he means when I feel my expression and understand. I clear my face of pity and try to kill the concern I have for this person. For this liar. For Vexx. I school my expression into a mask of neutrality. "I'm sorry," I don't know why I'm saying it, but I can't seem to stop the words.

"I am sorry," the words feel foreign on my tongue; not because I've never said them, but because the words carry more truth than I want them to. "I am sorry that we-- what we had came at a price. I am sorry that you helped kill my family. I am sorry that my family is dead. I am sorry that they didn't do better and I am sorry that this is all fucked." My hands and my face feel numb, and I have to look away from him and away from the emptiness I see there.

I move to slip away from him, and as I turn, I feel his warm hand grasping just above my elbow. "You are apologizing for things beyond your control," his grip on my arm tightens, "why?"

When I turn to him, I can see that _something_ is there. Hope flickers in my chest like a match to a candle. "I'm not apologizing, I'm just," I hesitate, what am I doing? "lamenting over what could have been."

Vexx squints as he considers my answer and a smile slides onto his face, and I can't help but miss what we once had. "Jas," when he says my name, it the such a soft whisper that I think I may have imagined it, but even so I'm transported back to when he first said my name.

He had said it quietly, tentatively, seeing how it felt on his tongue as we sat on the tresses above the castle. "I like it. It fits you better than-- Well, it's more you."

His hand squeezes my arm again, "Jas, I--" he flinches and his hand recoils from me as though he had been electrocuted. Vexx recoils from me with a pained groan and suddenly it's my hand grasping above his elbows. His face is twisted in pain and he grits his teeth, bringing a hand up to his face and pulling at the messy red strands of hair atop his head.

Then, after many minutes pass, his muscles relax and Vexx appraises me with a cool, disconnected look. "Let go of me, Jasper," he says my name with such condescension that I let go with a recoil of my own.

Everything stings and it feels like my head is being crushed and I know I should tell Ryona, but right now, I just need to be away from everyone. Away from the eyes on my crewmates and away from the festering pain which Vexx both seems to revel in causing and suffer from himself.

Clutching my own head, I leave the training area and force myself to not look back.

**Author's Note:**

> If the Vexx x Traveler theme song isn't "Somebody that I Used to Know" by Gotye, I do not know what is.


End file.
